The Spot
by Snavej
Summary: Oliver Davis had reached the ripe age of 19 without ever having a spot. His skin had always been clear and smooth. Neither he nor Gene had ever had any form of acne. However, on the cold winter morning this story begins, Oliver Davis had awoken to find such a blemish.


The Spot

Oliver Davis had reached the ripe age of 19 without ever having a spot. His skin had always been clear and smooth. Neither he nor Gene had ever had any form of acne. However, on the cold winter morning this story begins, Oliver Davis had awoken to find such a blemish.

Of course, he did not notice it at first. He woke at 6am, as usual. He had climbed out of bed and entered the bathroom, relieved himself and then washed his hands. It had been then that he noticed the small red imperfection on the end of his nose.

His otherwise perfect face had formed a slight frown as he studied the flaw. Then he sighed and left the bathroom in order to dress.

When Lin had picked him up on the way to work, Oliver knew his co-worker had spotted the spot by the slight smirk adorning the older man's lips. But Lin did not say anything.

Once at the office, Oliver entered his office and closed the door behind him. He had begun working without so much as a thought to the red blemish on his face until Mai arrived just before 9am. Normally, when she arrived, he would shout for tea.

Yet something had stopped him. A small nagging worry at the back of his had prevented him from performing the usual routine. For some incomprehensible reason, the thought of Mai seeing him as anything less than perfect bothered him. Oliver knew that her opinion on his visage should not mean anything; the flaw did not prevent him from being superb at his profession.

But it still bothered him.

Oliver realised that he had been staring at his own office door for a little over five minutes and mentally shook himself; this was no time to be feeling self-conscious.

Wait. Self-conscious? Oliver Davis had never ever felt self-conscious before. It was an emotion restricted to those that were concerned with the other's opinions of them. Oliver Davis had never cared for anyone else's opinion of him. It was true that he took note of them; sometimes it had been useful to know in order to get something he needed, like information.

But this was different. He should not care if Mai saw him with a spot. Mai was merely his assistant who made him excellent tea. A woman who was fun to wind up upon occasion, who could make anyone like her in a way Oliver had never achieved and who was his only connection to Gene. Gene, who even from the grave had captured his assistant's heart. Oliver had never been jealous of Gene's way with people. He had never wanted that sort of attention. Yet there had been a twang of annoyance when he had asked Mai that fateful question: me or Gene?

Sometimes, he pondered about her inability to answer that simple question. He knew Mai's mental capability was not on the same level as his own, but the question had been an easy one, had it not? At the time, he had assumed that her answer would be 'Gene' and that she'd not wanted to offend him, as if he could be offended by something so trivial. However, sometimes late at night, the possibility that she had merely been confused – a common fault of the young woman – had occurred to him.

But he had quickly shaken off these daft wishful thoughts.

Wishful?

Oliver frowned and noticed he had wasted another ten minutes of previous work time. He wanted tea. It seemed to be a cyclic problem. He was not working because he needed tea, but he could not ask for tea because of the spot on his face which caused him to question his own thoughts and furthered his inability to work.

But Mai need not see his face.

If he turned away from her for some reason, such as being on the phone, then she need not see the blemish and there would be no issue. Not that he cared about her opinion of his face.

"Mai! Tea!" He shouted, then picked up his mobile and browsed the contacts, wondering if there was anyone he genuinely needed to call. But no one came to mind.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Oliver jumped to his feet and turned to face the window so that his back was to the door, holding his phone to his ear with one hand, the other in his pocket.

"Come in." He called and he heard Mai come in. "Leave it on the desk." He said, without turning around, and then continued his fake conversation in English. "_Yes, I shall expect that report by the end of the week. I am most interested to hear about…_" He trailed off as the door closed behind him.

His plan had worked. A cup of steaming hot black tea was waiting for him on his desk and he was safe until at least lunchtime from Mai seeing his ruined visage. Then a new concern hit him.

How long did it take spots to go away? What if it did not go away?

Eager for an answer, Oliver sat down and opened a new internet browser and placed it in Incognito mode. **How long does it take for spots to go away.** He typed the words and hit enter.

The results were infuriating. **Life cycle of a pimple. Avoid getting spots by not touching your face.** The list went on and on and all Oliver wanted was a number. Rolling his eyes, he closed the browser and took a sip of tea.

Sighing contentedly, Oliver refocused his brain onto work.

Oliver waited until Mai had left for lunch until he escaped for his own food. Fortunately the cold weather meant he could pull his scarf up over his nose and play it off as trying to prevent the biting wind from touching his skin.

However, fate had a different idea in mind. Oliver arrived back from lunch, returned to his office and to his work. But he had only been writing for about ten minutes when there was a knock on his office door.

"Naru? There's a man here with a parcel for you that only you can sign for!" Mai called through the door. Oliver cursed under his breath.

"Send him in." Oliver replied and a moment later an acne ridden young man entered his office with a parcel. Oliver recognised the handwriting of the address as that of his mother, which meant this was probably a pre-release copy of his father's new book. He signed on the dotted line and then handed the clipboard back to the courier. Oliver studied the man's face, how was it that this man who worked a menial job was able to walk around with such an unsightly face without being seemingly affected by it.

The man gave Oliver a smile and bowed before departing, leaving the office door ajar. Cursing, Oliver was about to stand up when Mai appeared in the doorway. Oliver was too slow in reacting to her sudden appearance and she entered the office smiling cheerfully.

"Just wanted to collect your cup, would you like more tea?" She asked. Oliver watched as her eyes widened a fraction as she spotted the blemish before they returned to normal.

Oliver sighed resignedly. Well she had seen it now. There was no use in hiding the matter.

"Yes." Oliver said forefully, trying to suppress his annoyance. Mai darted out of the office with his cup. The phone rang a moment later and Oliver answered it swiftly.

"_Oliver!_" He heard his father's voice. "_Did you receive the book? I just got a confirmation email._"

"_Yes, I received it a few minutes ago._" Oliver replied. He stood up and started pacing.

"_I know it's just a beginner's book, but I'd really appreciate your opinion. My publishers want some 'big name' quotes to put on the advertising._"

"_Wouldn't my input be seen as biased?_"

"_Well that's what I said but they reckon because of your reputation that people will take your opinion seriously, it's not like we haven't publically disagreed on matters before._"

"_That was a minor issue._" Oliver pointed out. "_But would your publishers consider doing a translated version?_" He walked over to his desk, flicked open the contents and scanned them. "_It covers all of the basics of parapsychological research and its methods. I presume with your university students in mind and I can think of a…_" But his father cut him off.

"_But you still want to train up that assistant of yours?_" Oliver heard his father chuckle. "_Why doesn't the girl learn English and come to the university? I could get her a place on my course._"

"_The girl has been trying to learn English for a long time; she is even secretly taking evening classes and thinks I don't know what she's doing._" A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. "Come in."

Mai entered with a fresh cup of tea, which she placed carefully on the desk, smiled at Oliver and then left, closing the door behind her. So she was still smiling at him, without as much as a hint of a smirk.

"_Have you been spying on the girl?_" His father asked.

"_No, I just heard her trying to practice though my office door. She was cursing with regards to the homework assignment that she was attempting to complete._"

"_And you didn't help her with it?_" Martin said sternly. "_Your mother would be disappointed._"

"_If my mother heard I was helping some girl with English lessons she would begin planning a wedding._" Oliver sighed as his father laughed.

"_Very true. Anyway, I better go and get some breakfast before I head in, email me about the book and I will talk to my publishers about getting a translation done. If we can't get it done officially, I can arrange for a private copy._"

"_That would be most appreciated. Goodbye._" And Oliver hung up. Sighing, he sat down and took a sip of tea as he pulled the book closer to him. It was around 600 pages long but it wouldn't take Oliver too long to read. Deciding to start reading it when he got home from work, he placed it into his bag and was about to continue his own work when he noticed something else on the desk.

It was a small bright orange tube no more than an inch and a half in length. Frowning, he read as much of the label as he could. Gathering it was some kind of spot cream, he guessed Mai must have left it there for him. The extent to which that girl would go to help someone never ceased to amaze Oliver.

He went to pick it up, but as his fingers brushed the item, he felt the all too familiar tug of a psychometric vision. Before he could stop it, the sight of Mai standing in the office bathroom appeared before his eyes. She was holding the little tube and staring into the mirror. Then she began to speak.

"I don't know how to you see these visions or even if this will work, but I thought I'd leave a message for you about it." She sounded uncertain. "The packet says that it works in four hours, but I've never timed it but you just dab a bit on and it helps reduce the redness if nothing else." Mai hesitated for a fraction of a second. "I understand that you're embarrassed about it, but everyone gets spots and I don't think any less of you for it. So don't worry about me seeing it, I won't tell anyone and I'll try to keep everyone out of your office if you don't want the others seeing you until it has gone. Okay well, um, I should probably go and make your tea now."

She stopped talking and shoved the tube back in her pocket. As Mai turned to leave, the scene faded from Oliver's vision.

He had not expected that when he first felt the vision coming on. Truth be told, he had expected to see Mai crying about how she thought, quite incorrectly, that everyone would think her ugly because of some spot on her face. Oliver wondered whether she had had any control over what he had seen or she'd simply been lucky. Usually, his versions were seemingly random, sometimes having to endure several different scenes before seeing anything of use. It would be something he would have to investigate. Had Mai's psychic abilities focused his own?

Oliver took another sip of tea, and then pulled out his mobile. He used the screen as a mirror to help apply the colourless clear gooey gel that came out of the little tube and rubbed it in. The area stung for a moment, then returned to normal.

Taking note of the time in order to know when four hours were up, Oliver returned to work.

Three hours later, when the office was due to close, Oliver heard another knock on the door.

"Come in."

"Just wanted to wash your cup up before I left." Mai said as she stuck her head round the door.

"Of course." Oliver picked it up to hand it to her and as he did so her hand brushed his for a fraction of a second before she removed the cup from his grasp. Mai was just about to turn away, when Oliver grabbed her hand. She looked startled, but Oliver wanted to thank her without knowing how best to convey his emotions. "I…" He began, and then faltered.

"No problem." Mai smiled widely. Oliver stared at her for a moment, and then smiled back. Mai blushed slightly and Oliver smirked. He let go of her hand and she made to leave.

Oliver watched her go, watched the way her hair and pleated skirt swished in time with her steps, how her right foot turned in a little and how her free hand fiddled with the end of her fraying sleeve. Even if she became fluent in English, he wouldn't want her to go to England to study with his father. He would miss her kindness. He would teach her and examine her in Japan; there must be some way she could become accredited here…

Lost in his thoughts, Oliver forgot about the rapidly fading blemish on his face. 

**Author's Note: Please review! **


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